


Bigger Fish

by TheNarator



Series: Fractals [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fix Fic, Fix-It, Gen, Harry being a creep, although i doubt it will come up, i practically based this entire fic around it, it's really sad that this qualifies as a fix fic, past hartmon, probably past harrick, that and my desire for more of cisco and hartley as archnemises, that's the image you all came here to see isn't it?, tina smacking harry with a rolled up newpaper, what did we do to deserve these portrayals of jay and jesse?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarator/pseuds/TheNarator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how big a fish you think you are, there’s always one that’s bigger.</p>
<p>The one where Cisco defeats Zoom out of sheer frustration at being made late to work, and this somehow sparks off a war between STAR Labs and Mercury Labs during which Tina McGee hits Harrison Wells with a rolled up newspaper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Puffer Fish

**Author's Note:**

> *ignores canon harder than before*

It was an accident, really.

Well, it wasn’t entirely an accident, but it wasn’t like he planned it or anything. It was just that living in Central City had become so trying ever since the superheroes and supervillains started having it out in the streets. Barely a day went by when some section of the city or other wasn’t gridlocked because some criminal metahuman had gone rampaging through a critical intersection, making it very hard to get anywhere and especially difficult on short notice. Shop fronts were constantly being destroyed, emergency services were always overtaxed, and the more security you had at your place of business the more likely it was that some metahuman with very nasty powers would break in to steal something and end up killing someone in the process.

The heroes weren’t much better, as far as inconveniences went. It was all very well and good that the Flash was keeping the city safe, but every time he ran past a window anything inside that wasn’t nailed down had a disturbing tendency to go flying. He had no more thought for the traffic flow than any of his rogues gallery did, and it was nothing to him to make downtown completely impassible with those big blow-out fights. Everyone was very grateful to him, as well they should be, but somehow that didn’t help anyone get to work on time.

So when the bus that Cisco Ramon took to work came to a screeching halt not just because the Flash and Zoom were fighting, but because they were fighting  _in front of the bus_ , Cisco decided that he’d had quite enough of this.

He stormed angrily to the front of the bus and stomped down the steps toward the folding doors. They didn’t open, and Cisco threw a look back at the terrified bus driver.

"Open up," Cisco demanded, "I want to get off."

"But . . ." the driver trailed off, throwing a fearful glance out the front window.

“Do you think he needs a door to get in here if he really wanted to?” Cisco huffed, and after a moment’s hesitation the driver nodded and pulled the lever to open the door.

The Flash and Zoom were doing laps of the intersection, yellow and blue lightning chasing each other in an endless circle. There wasn’t much opportunity to target either of them and Cisco didn’t particularly care to do so; as far as he was concerned the Flash could benefit from a few days at normal speed. He simply took a deep breath and fired a single, sweeping blast across the intersection.

The thing about a body going at faster than the speed of sound and then coming to an abrupt stop was that the stop happened feet-first. The body itself was still hurtling through the air, so the feet came to a halt upon contact with the ground but the top half kept going. The weight of the chest, especially on two broad-shouldered men, was enough to pull a person off balance, so when the torso kept moving and the feet stayed in place this had a disturbing tendency to cause the individual in question to topple over.

As a result of all this, both the Flash and Zoom went sprawling spectacularly onto the pavement as they simultaneously tripped over their own feet.

Zoom went into an impressive tumble roll, going end over end down the street for several yards before rolling to surprised stop. Flash was a little less dignified, barely having time to throw out his hands before he went skidding down the sidewalk, coming to a halt with palms and parts of his face scrapped raw and bloody. The two speedsters got shakily to their feet, looked down at themselves in confusion, then looked at each other. Then, as if some silent signal had been given, Zoom turned tail and fled while Flash went tearing after him. At normal speed.

Both of them were at normal speed, actually, and the people on the street watched in awe as Zoom sprinted to the sidewalk no faster than any of them could run. Once they worked it out though the Flash became almost irrelevant: immediately they all closed in on Zoom, joining hands like some bizarre game of red rover and packing themselves in around him on all sides. Zoom struggled vainly against the crowd but soon enough he went down, and by the time the Flash made it to him he was flat on the sidewalk with a particularly fat lady sitting on him.

Now that that was sorted out, Cisco turned and walked back up the stairs onto the bus.

“We can go now, right?” Cisco asked the confused and still slightly terrified bus driver.

He nodded hurriedly, then switched to shaking his head. “Sorry,” he said, gesturing out at the intersection, “but, there’s people in the street.”

Looking out the front window Cisco could see that he was right: people were spilling off the sidewalks to cluster around Zoom and the Flash. Some were cheering, some were yelling, several were calling the police and a few of them were looking curiously at the doors to the bus through which Cisco had just disappeared.

“Typical,” Cisco grumbled, then went back to his vacated seat.

If every passenger one the bus stared at him in awe and wonder until he got off at his stop, he didn’t notice.

***

“You’re late again, Mr. Ramon,” said Dr. Christina McGee, head of Mercury Labs, as Cisco stepped out of the elevator on his way to his work room.

“Sorry Dr. McGee,” Cisco said, bowing his head apologetically. She had pulled him to one side to talk privately, and everyone who passed them was giving Cisco curious looks. “It’s just that the bus was running late,” he tried to explain, “and I tried to clear the route, but-”

“Yes I saw you ‘clearing the route’ on the news,” Dr. McGee confirmed. “Do you normally stop to perform acts of heroism on your way to work? It might explain why you seem to be late so often.”

“No Dr. McGee,” Cisco shook his head in denial. “It’s just that the Flash’s fights usually clog up the roads, and-”

“Yes I know Cisco,” said Dr. McGee, a little more kindly. “It’s a sad fact of living in this city. Still, your actions at the bust stop were commendable-”

“Thank you, Dr. McGee,” Cisco dipped his head in gratitude. It wasn’t everyday the head of the lab praised his work, although it happened to him somewhat more than most of the staff. He was, after all, her lead engineer.

“-and the city is grateful,” she went on. “So grateful, in fact, that they’ve given us the opportunity to build a containment cell for your fallen foe. Along with an entire metahuman wing in Iron Heights and a full array of anti-metahuman technology for the police force.”

Cisco’s eyes widened. “I thought they wanted STAR Labs for that project,” he protested. “They’re giving it to us?”

“Indeed,” said Dr. McGee, smiling triumphantly. “Harrison’s loss is our gain it seems; he’s been holding out on that contract to see how much he could get, but now they’ve offered us half over again what they were offering him and the deal closes this afternoon.”

"That's amazing!" Cisco gushed, grinning almost as broadly as she was. "Congratulations Dr. McGee, you've worked so hard for this."

"Well I can't take all the credit," she admitted, still beaming. "They seem very keen on my lead engineer. I think he's done something to impress them."

Cisco opened his mouth to thank her, but just then the elevator door _dinged_ open again and Dr. McGee fell quiet as a small gaggle of interns walked past.

“Walk with me,” she instructed, and Cisco fell into step beside her as they made their way to her office.

“Who are you thinking to lead the project?” Cisco wondered. “I can offer you my recommendations-”

“Actually I was thinking you would lead it,” she said, cutting him off short. “You’ve been requested specifically to make the speedster containment unit, and you are after all responsible for this, so I thought you might be willing to stay on as head of the division. It’s a major contract Cisco, it’ll get us a lot of positive press. I want only the best working on it.”

Cisco bit his lip, thinking. He _badly_ didn’t want to be working on tech for use against metahumans. He would have to design stuff that worked so as not to disappoint Dr. McGee and let the lab down, but it would inevitably be used against metas like him, that just wanted to keep their powers hidden, once the cops ran out of supervillains. Those damn Metahuman Awareness Apps would make sure of that, and Cisco couldn’t be part of it. He just couldn’t.

Eventually he made up his mind. “I’m sorry, Dr. McGee,” he said carefully, “but I don’t think I can do that.”

She turned to look at him curiously. “Whyever not?” she asked in confusion.

“I don’t want to build tech that will be used against people like . . . well, like me,” he said apologetically. “I’ll build the containment cell, of course I will, but I don’t think I can lead the project full-time.”

They reached her office and Dr. McGee opened the door for them, lips pursed in distaste. “Do you fancy yourself a superhero, Mr. Ramon?” she asked.

Cisco frowned. “No,” he replied. “Why?”

“Because that will be what’s expected of you, when word gets out who you are and what you’ve done,” Dr. McGee explained, going to sit behind her desk. Cisco stood in front of it, facing her. “If you have no inclination to become a costumed crusader, I suggest you find another way to show your commitment to stopping crime in this city. You’ve put your foot in it Cisco, you’ll need to have something to show when people ask you why you aren’t out there backing up the Flash.”

Cisco shook his head. “I’m sorry Dr. McGee, but I just can’t. I’m a metahuman, and most of my friends are metas too. I can’t, in good conscience, build something that could be used against us; the Flash might be able to fight his own kind but I can’t.”

“You crippled Zoom today,” Dr. McGee pointed out.

“That’ll wear off in a few days,” Cisco told her, “and splitting up a fight is one thing. Putting weapons in the hands of cops who are twitchy at best around metas, most of whom have a grudge of some kind? That’s quite another.”

Dr. McGee thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright,” she said grudgingly, “I understand. You will build the containment cell though, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Cisco assured her. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Good,” Dr. McGee said decisively, turning to the mountain of papers on her desk. “You may go.”

Cisco hesitated. He had wanted to talk to Dr. McGee about his Cloakpin Devices for some time now, and had planned on opening the conversation today. Right now, having just refused a major assignment, didn’t seem like the right time, but they were running _out_  of time. The Metahuman Awareness Apps were due to hit the market in two weeks, and if the Cloakpins didn’t get out there first they’d be obsolete within days. The damage would already be done.

Finally, he settled on a way to spin it.

“I have an alternative though,” he piped up, drawing her attention again. “I’ve been working on a device, on my own time of course, that can block out the Metahuman Awareness Apps. They could make Wells’ multi-million dollar project absolutely worthless, and really undermine his grip on the city.”

Dr. McGee looked at him curiously. “And how would we sell them?” she wanted to know. “Harrison’s banking on people’s fear; what need are we filling?”

“Metahumans would buy them,” Cisco pointed out.

“Making our market a fraction of the city,” she concluded. “I’ll consent for you to work on them in the lab, but until you come up with a purpose for them it’s your own time only.”

If that was all he was going to get, Cisco would take it. “Yes Dr. McGee,” he said, nodding respectfully. “I’ll get to work on the containment cell then.”

He turned to leave, and was almost at the door when Dr. McGee spoke again.

“Cisco,” she said gently, glancing up from her paperwork when he turned back to her. “You did good work today.”

Cisco flushed, glowing with pride. “Thank you, Dr. McGee. That means a lot coming from you.”

She smiled, the fond little smile she generally reserved for the end of very long days. Cisco returned the smile, knowing it for what it was: Dr. McGee’s unspoken sympathy. She had known that he was a metahuman before, being the observant a woman that she was. She knew he had it hard, and his life would only get harder now that he’d outed himself.

“Right then,” she said, suddenly all business again, “back to work. Zoom isn’t going to stay dormant forever, you more than anyone are well aware of the time frame we’re working with.”

“Yes Dr. McGee,” Cisco nodded. “I’ll start right away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seriously what did we do to deserve these depictions of jay and jesse we're getting on the show? what gives these people the right to treat good speedsters this way? did the writers set out to make barry look good by dragging every other speedster's name through the mud?
> 
> all aboard the nope train to fuckthatville!


	2. Piranha

It took Cisco three days to finish designing and building the speedster containment unit.

By his calculations Zoom and the Flash should have been incapacitated for roughly five days, but he’d worked quickly anyway just in case his estimations had been off. It would have gone a lot faster if his phone would stop ringing, but even changing his number couldn’t accomplish that. Dr. McGee had been right: the whole freaking city was after him, from the newspapers to the tabloids to a fan club that had apparently sprung up overnight. Luckily his natural vibrating frequency couldn’t be picked up by cameras, so that did a lot to discourage the paparazzi, but for the last two days he’d found it more expedient to just turn off his phone and sleep in his lab rather than braving the world outside.

He couldn’t avoid that world forever though, and once the containment unit was finished he was officially out of excuses. Dr. McGee had ordered him to go home, get some real rest and eat something that didn’t come out of a vending machine. He managed to get her consent to stay until the last possible second, when the last bus had already run and most of his admirers had gone home for the evening, by arguing that walking home alone wasn’t unsafe for someone as powerful as him. That being said, she warned him that if she found him in his lab again come morning they would be having a serious discussion about workplace etiquette.

Cisco busied himself working on Cloakpins for his friends -- if Dr. McGee wasn’t going to mass produce them then he’d have to do that himself -- but 9:00 pm rolled around eventually and when he looked out his window the street was deserted. He wasn’t ambushed in the front lobby either, although the night guards did straighten up and nod meaningfully to him as he passed, and he actually started to hold out hope that he might be able to get home unmolested.

Obviously, it was too good to be true.

He managed to get a whole two streets from the lab when a sleek black limousine pulled up beside him. It wasn’t exactly an unmarked van but Cisco still moved to the far end of the sidewalk, eyeing it warily. He waited for it to move past, but instead it slowed to a crawl and stayed level with him as he walked, and after a few moments the window in the very back rolled down to reveal the passenger.

It was Harrison Wells.

Because of course it was Harrison Wells.

“Mr. Ramon,” Wells called, smiling cheerfully. “Fancy meeting you out here.”

“Fancy that,” Cisco said dryly. He was under no illusion that this was a chance meeting.

“You don’t seem to have transportation for the evening,” Wells noted, making only the most token of efforts to not look entirely satisfied with this. “Can I offer you a ride home?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Cisco told him. He kept his eyes front, hoping that if he didn’t look at Wells he would take the hint and go away.

No such luck.

“These streets are dangerous at night,” Wells warned him with mock concern.

“That’s what the superpowers are for.” Cisco smiled sardonically. “Thanks for those by the way.”

Wells let out a short, humorless little laugh. “It’s a big city,” he tried next. “It takes so long to get anywhere on foot. Why don’t you get in; I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“So you can see where I like to hang out?” Cisco speculated, dropping his pretense. “Or have you not figured out where I live yet?”

“Oh I wouldn’t resort to such a tactic,” Wells replied, dropping his act in turn. “If I just wanted to do that I could simply have you followed. I’m offering you a ride because I want to talk.”

“Talk?” Cisco repeated, incredulously. “About what?”

“I have a proposition for you-”

“Not interested,” Cisco cut him off before he could get another word out.

“You haven’t even heard what it is yet,” Wells protested lightly.

“If it’s coming from you, I’m not interested.”

Wells sighed. “I guess there’s nothing for it then,” he said sarcastically. “Unless of course I do just follow you home. I could wait outside until you’re ready to talk. Offer you a ride to work. Wait there to pick you up.”

“You’re not going to live in your limo until I’m ready to listen to you,” Cisco argued.

“No, but for the right price someone else will,” Wells assured him, “and then they’ll bring you to me. I have a lot of money, Mr. Ramon. I can keep this up for a long time.”

Cisco seriously considered letting him. He could hold out for a few days, get some documentation, then report to the police that he was being stalked. Wells probably wouldn’t get more than a fine, but he’d have to field some awkward questions from the press, and that was almost enough. He couldn’t help but think of Dr. McGee though, and the trouble this would bring down on her. He didn’t want to bring trouble down on her, not after everything she’d done for him, so with a deep sigh he stopped ignoring Dr. Wells and climbed reluctantly into the limo.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dr. Wells asked patronizingly as Cisco got settled on the seat opposite him. He poured himself a glass of expensive looking amber liquid that smelled strongly of alcohol, then hovered the bottle over a second glass, looking at Cisco questioningly.

Cisco shook his head. “What do you want, Wells?” he asked tiredly.

“Right down to business,” Wells noted, then took a sip of his drink. “I respect that in a man.”

“You think I give a rat’s ass how you flatter me?” Cisco raised an eyebrow.

Wells smiled, as though that actually _had_  pleased him. “Not really,” he admitted, “but I prefer to be the one to set the tone of the conversation.”

“Your proposition.” Cisco prompted, not really a question.

Wells tilted his head, examining Cisco with sharp, curious eyes. “How do you like working for Tina?” 

Cisco frowned. “You mean Dr. McGee?”

“Tina’s an old friend,” Wells explained. “Never worked under her though, what kind of boss is she?”

“Is this the part where you offer to double my salary to come work for you?” Cisco asked condescendingly.

“No,” Wells replied, “this is the part where I tell you to name your price.” He drained his drink, then set down the empty glass on the freaking _minibar_ his ride included.

“There’s not enough money in the world,” Cisco told him flatly. “I like working for Mercury Labs, and Dr. McGee.”

“There must be something,” Wells shook his head in disbelief, smiling knowingly. “Some perk, some-”

“The only _perks_  I want are things you’d never give,” Cisco told him truthfully. There was no point in pretending every man didn’t have his price. Cisco’s just wasn’t money.

“Try me,” Wells invited.

“Alright,” Cisco leaned forward, perfectly ready to play chicken. “Don’t put the Metahuman Awareness Apps on the market. Scrap the entire project, and never put out anything like it again.”

Wells narrowed his eyes, clearly sizing Cisco up, then-

“Done,” he said with a tone of finality.

Cisco stared at him, sure he had misheard. “What?”

“Done,” Wells repeated with a shrug. “You are aware that whoever has you gets the contract with the city, correct? The Apps are expensive to make, and hence expensive to sell; they’re for the rich and the upper middle, the people with just enough material possessions to be terrified of a metahuman taking them. The city contract will bring me far more than they ever could.”

Cisco shook his head. “Mercury Labs has that contract,” he protested. “It’s locked in, they have a deal.”

Wells shrugged. “Deals can be broken.”

At that Cisco grinned, feeling the weight on his chest lift somewhat. He had been a little concerned there for a moment about what the right thing to do actually was, but of course he needn’t have worried. He sat back, comfortable once more in his resolve, smiling wider as Wells frowned.

“Bad move,” he advised. “Now I know your word can’t be trusted.”

Wells huffed a laugh, apparently indifferent to his own slip. “I’m sure you understand how this works, Cisco,” he said. “One doesn’t break deals with people who are still useful.”

“And how useful will I be after you have your contract with the city?” Cisco challenged.

Wells grinned, and there was something predatory in it, something hungry and almost feral. It made Cisco feel like prey.

“Oh, I anticipate you being very, very useful for a very, very long time.”

Several pieces on information finally clicked together in Cisco’s mind, making a few things suddenly clear. “This isn’t just about the contract,” Cisco realized.

Wells shook his head. “No.”

“This is about my powers,” Cisco went on.

Wells tipped his head to the side, eyes on the low ceiling as though debating with himself. “Partly,” he conceded, “not entirely. There’s a reason Tina made you lead engineer; you really are very good with machines.”

“Which of those three reasons is the one that made you coerce me into the back of a limo?” Cisco wanted to know.

“Do I have to pick one?” Wells shrugged. “They’re all so compelling. All in all you’re something of a catch.”

“I was Dr. McGee’s lead engineer a year ago,” Cisco began ticking reasons off on his fingers. “You’ve had the city contract in your pocket for more than a year and you’ve been stalling, so you can’t want it that badly. That leaves us with the superpowers.”

“They really are very intriguing,” Wells admitted.

“With one particularly intriguing application,” Cisco concluded.

Wells smiled, infuriatingly pleased. “You really are very clever Cisco,” he said. “Surely you must see that the danger posed by the Flash is-”

“Stop the car,” Cisco ordered.

Wells pursed his lips in distaste, but pressed a button on his arm rest.

“No deal,” Cisco told him as the limo rolled to a stop. “Like I said, not enough money in the world.”

“You won’t even consider?” Wells asked, tone harder than it had been before. “Not even for the safety of your friends?”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch if you’re actually going to hold them hostage like that,” Cisco spat. “You’re the one responsible for us metas in the first place, and now instead of helping us you’re going to use us to turn a profit. I’d never work for someone like you.”

With that he slid over to the door and opened it, intent on getting as far from Wells and his faustian deal as possible.

“I hope you’ll reconsider Cisco,” Wells called after him as he climbed back out of the car. “The Apps hit the market in just over a week. Once that happens then whatever comes next is out of my hands.”

Cisco stood and turned, hand on the car door ready to close it.

“Tick tock Cisco,” Well concluded, face lined with determination and a touch of anger. Clearly this was a man unused to being denied.

“Not on your life,” Cisco growled. “And don’t call me Cisco.”

With that he slammed the car door and marched angrily away.

Cisco spent nearly the entire walk home grumbling to himself. He was furious, and it was hard to think of a person he wasn’t furious at. He was furious at Wells for being such a selfish prick. He was furious at his fan club for making him leave so late that he’d put himself in Wells’ way. He was furious at Zoom for putting him in this position, and he was furious at the Flash for not having caught Zoom sooner.

He was so busy contemplating what he’d actually do to any of these people if he saw them right now that he almost tripped over one of them lying on his doorstep.

The Flash -- or rather Jay Garrick, as he had no powers at the moment -- was leaning against Cisco’s door with his long legs stretched out into the third floor hallway of the apartment complex where Cisco lived. The door itself was covered in letters, cards and notices that had been taped or pinned to it, but Jay was the only one there waiting for him. He was asleep, understandable given the late hour, and judging by his rumpled clothes he’d been there for a while.

Unsure of what to do, Cisco cautiously poked Jay’s leg with one toe. Thankfully this was enough to make him jerk awake, looking blearily around until his eyes lit on Cisco.

“Oh!” he said, springing immediately to his feet and dusting himself off. “Sorry, I was just waiting for you and I didn’t mean to fall asleep and-”

“Hey,” Cisco interjected to stem his torrent of excuses, “it’s okay. How long have you been here?”

Jay looked sheepish. “A day and a half? I tried calling, got your number from the landlady, but I figured you were probably getting flooded with calls so I only tried once.”

“I was,” Cisco informed him. Suddenly it occurred to him that Jay probably had a hell of a time keeping a phone number, as high profile as he had gotten over the last two years. “Thanks for trying though. What are you doing here?”

Jay took something that looked like a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I wanted to give you this,” he explained, holding it out to Cisco.

Cisco took it. “A bus pass?” he asked in some confusion.

“For two years,” Jay confirmed. “As long as I’ve been, well, decreasing the value of them I supposed. Sorry about that by the way.”

Cisco blinked at him. “You came to apologize, and give me a bus pass.”

“I know,” Jay rubbed the back of his neck, “it’s stupid, but I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am. It’s hard, sometimes, to remember that life goes on whether I win the fight or not. I’m not always as considerate as I should be and, well, I’ll try to do better.”

The look on Jay’s face was so earnest and apologetic that Cisco found even his two years worth of pent up annoyance shriveling before it. There was a reason this man went running around in a kettle helmet saving people from evil metahumans and house fires all day. It took a special kind of person to decide that such a course was the only logical next step in their life.

“Thanks,” Cisco said, slipping the bus pass into his pocket, “for the pass and the apology. I’ve had a . . . long day, and this is a way better end than I expected.”

Jay smiled, looking relieved. “Glad I could help.”

“Do you wanna come in?” Cisco offered as he went to unlock the front door. “The least I could do is give you some coffee if you’re going to have to walk home like a normal person.”

“Coffee would be great,” Jay admitted, following Cisco inside. The apartment was pretty small, but not bad for the kind of money an engineer made.

“It’s been so long since I could be affected by caffeine,” Jay confided as Cisco led the way to the kitchen, turning on lights as he went. “Or alcohol, for that matter. I got completely smashed the other night, it was amazing. Like my first time all over again.”

Cisco laughed, imagining Jay Garrick in a bar getting drunk. “That sounds hilarious.”

“Yeah,” Jay agreed, “I forgot what a lightweight I was.”

Cisco had a particular brand of instant coffee that he liked and Jay wasn’t opposed to it, so he made them up two mugs and then gestured for Jay to come sit at the kitchen table with him.

“So,” said Jay when they were both seated, after taking a large swig of his coffee, “have you thought about a name?”

Cisco looked at Jay over the rim of his mug. “Name? For what?”

Jay tilted his head in confusion. “Well, you,” he said. “A super-name, like Flash.”

“I thought that was the kind of thing the media assigned you,” Cisco blew on his coffee and took a sip.

“Oh trust me, you do not want them to give you a name,” Jay assured him. “You’ll end up as The Human Earthquake for the rest of your super-career.”

Cisco frowned. “My super-career?”

“Yeah,” said Jay, frowning himself now. “I mean, I guess I just assumed . . . are you not going to continue?”

“Continue?” Cisco asked, perplexed. “What, the hero thing? I just did that because I was fed up with the bus being delayed. I’m an inventor, not a superhero.”

Jay considered this, taking another long, slow drink of his coffee. Cisco watched him carefully; the last thing he needed was the Flash on his back about becoming a superhero, on top of Harrison Wells and his threats.

After some deliberation, Jay spoke again. “I’m not going to tell you to do it,” he said carefully, “because this isn’t the kind of thing you can do because someone else said you have to. In this, the choice has to be yours.”

“But you have some ideas about which choice I should make,” Cisco speculated dryly.

“No,” Jay said, surprising him considerably. “I don’t know you well enough to be telling you what you’re capable of, or what’s right for you. All I can say is that I’d be glad of the help and I’m here if you need me.”

Cisco stared at him. After Wells’ veiled threats and blatant demands, Jay seemed almost painfully honest. There was something oddly endearing about how straightforward he was: no lengthy speech about right and wrong, no appeal to Cisco’s morality, no attempt to assert his authority as the older and more experienced superhero. Just a few simple words of advice, and an assurance that help would be there no matter what he decided to do.

Cisco wondered if Jay even knew Wells had it out for him, or if he realized that Wells had approached Cisco about getting rid of him that very evening. Suddenly Cisco felt queasy at the very thought.

“That’s very-” Cisco struggled for a word, “-decent of you, Mr. Garrick.”

“Please,” he grinned, “it’s Jay.”

“Jay,” Cisco repeated. “And you can call me Cisco, alright?”

“Alright,” Jay nodded. “Cisco, then.”

They remained in Cisco’s kitchen talking for some time after that. They discussed what it was like to realize they were metahumans, and to learn how to use their powers on their own. Jay told him what it was like to get drunk after so long being incapable of inebriation, and how surreal it was to pick at scabs that wouldn’t have had time to form mere days ago. Cisco told Jay what it was like to feel everything in the universe vibrating at its own frequency, and how strange it was to be unable to take pictures without conscious effort to make himself visible. It wasn’t as if Cisco didn’t have other metahuman friends he’d talked to about this stuff, but with Jay it was different somehow.

Jay ended up crashing on the couch, as Cisco had been unwilling to throw him out at half past midnight, and Cisco slept better than he had since the Metahuman Awareness Apps had been announced. Somehow, it felt like everything was going to be alright.


	3. Barracuda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should clarify that cisco is 24 in this fic. i know i made him a teenager in the last two, but this time he's actually an adult, with a master's degree and everything. jesse on the other hand is still 17.

“Harrison Wells!” screamed a furious sounding voice from out in the hallway, making Jesse and her father both jump.

It was Saturday, and Jesse had only accompanied her father to pick up a few things from his office before they went out to brunch. Her father was normally in the lab on Saturdays, but Jesse had just tested out of her particle physics class and they were going out to celebrate. No one had batted an eye when he’d come in, even with Jesse in tow, and if someone had been trying to find him that morning they certainly would have expected to see him in his office.

Clearly, someone had.

He was sitting at his desk riffling through papers when they heard the voice from outside the office door, and he sat up straight just as Dr. Christina McGee marched inside, waving a newspaper and clearly irate.

“Really, Harrison?” she demanded, slamming the paper down on the desk. Jesse peered around her to read the headline: ‘Savior of Central City Caught in Secret Meeting with Tech Entrepreneur,’ accompanied by a blurry photograph of someone getting out of her father’s limo.

“I thought _poaching_  was beneath you,” Dr. McGee went on, glaring at Jesse’s father as he inspected the paper. “Honestly, have you no shame?”

“Surely you don’t believe everything you read in the paper, Tina,” he retorted, shoving the newspaper back at her. “I was under the impression that the young man could not be picked up on film. Clearly this is a forgery.”

“Oh it is,” said a voice from behind Dr. McGee, and Jesse’s heart leaped to see Cisco Ramon, the Savior of Central City, leaning casually against the door frame. “He was, however, trying to poach me,” he went on, addressing Dr. McGee now as she rolled up the newspaper tightly into a narrow tube, “and then he fabricated that picture to try and get me in trouble for getting poached.”

With that Dr. McGee turned back to Jesse’s father, glaring even harder than before.

“Daddy, is that true?” Jesse asked in alarm, but he held up a hand to tell her to wait.

“Tina,” he began gently, but Dr. McGee cut him off by whacking him soundly with the rolled up newspaper. He had been moving to get up, but he was so surprised at being struck in such a manner that he fell back into his chair and stared at her instead.

“Just because you don’t talk to your employees doesn’t mean all of us are so short-sighted Harrison,” Dr. McGee went on. “Did you honestly think I’d fall for this rubbish?”

“The fate of this city is at stake Tina,” Jesse’s father argued. He tried to stand up again, but Dr. McGee whacked him back down with the newspaper. “Would you stop that?” he groused. “Surely you must see that this isn’t about a rivalry between our labs-”

“Then what pray tell _is_  it about Harrison?” she spat venomously.

“Putting the best equipment possible in the hands of the police,” he argued. “My lab has better resources, better personnel-”

“If your staff are so competent then why are you trying to steal mine?” Dr. McGee challenged.

“One brilliant mind does not an entire department make,” he shot back. “He’d be better off working here, and it would be better for the city-”

“ _He_  is standing right here,” piped up Mr. Ramon, glaring at Jesse’s father, “and _he_  has already told you I don’t want to work for you."

“What do you expect me to do Harrison?” Dr. McGee asked sarcastically. “Order him to take a job with your lab? Fire him so he has no choice?”

“I’d rather spend my life teaching high school Shop Classes,” Mr. Ramon assured her.

“Your loyalty is touching,” Jesse’s father grumbled, “but it won’t make the city any safer.”

“Oh but it will,” said Dr. McGee, smiling viciously, then turned to Mr. Ramon. “Cisco? I’ve decided that Mercury Labs is going to start producing your Cloakpin Devices.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, face lighting up with excitement.

“Cloakpin Devices?” Jesse’s father repeated, a certain degree of trepidation in his tone.

“Something that’s going to render your Metahuman Awareness Apps utterly worthless,” Dr. McGee informed him triumphantly, “and with any luck, drive your company into the ground!”

Jesse’s father glared. “You don’t want to do this Tina,” he warned. “You do _not_  want to go to war with me.”

“Oh I think I do,” Dr. McGee assured him, “and if nothing else I am certainly going to teach. You. Some. Manners!”

She punctuated the last four words each with a sound whack of the newspaper, beating him around the head with it until he grabbed it and yanked it out of her hand.

“Tina!” He said sharply, rising to his feet at last, but Dr. McGee was already turning to leave.

“Come on Cisco,” she called, and Mr. Ramon fell into step beside her. “We have a press conference to arrange.”

With that Dr. Christina McGee, head of Mercury Labs and employer of the Savior of Central City, stormed from the office.

“What was that about?” Jesse demanded once they were out of earshot.

Her father refused to look at her, turning his head to the side with lips pursed in distaste. “Nothing,” he said tersely.

“That was not nothing,” Jesse protested, gesturing after Dr. McGee and Mr. Ramon. “What was she talking about? Why would anyone want to sabotage the Awareness Apps? Why does she want to ruin your company?”

“Let’s go,” her father suggested, stepping out from behind the desk as he made for the door. “We’ll discuss this over brunch.”

They did not, however, discuss it over brunch. Her father did anything and everything to avoid the subject, expertly dodging all of Jesse’s questions, and it left her with the distinct impression that something was definitely wrong. She didn’t know how or why Dr. McGee wanted to do anything to jeopardize the success of the Awareness Apps, especially when Mercury Labs was going to make anti-metahuman technology as well, but she had a feeling she was going to find out one way or another.

***

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here on such short notice,” Dr. McGee addressed the collection of reporters, newscasters and photographers that had gathered in the Mercury Labs lobby in response to a dozen or so frantic phone calls. It wasn’t quite the turnout for the Metahuman Awareness Apps, but it would do.

Cisco and Caitlin stood behind her, Cisco just to her right and Caitlin just to her left. Cisco’s hurried explanation had left Caitlin dazed and somewhat giddy, but she presented a calm and serious face to the press as cameras snapped pictures.

“As many of you know,” Dr. McGee went on, “Mercury Labs was recently contracted by the city to arm the Central City police force against the metahuman threat. This is both an honor and a privilege, to be able to serve our community in this way.”

There was a smattering of polite applause, all of them grateful for this fresh assurance of their safety, unknowing that Harrison Wells might have done it ages ago and had stalled to see if he could get more money.

“However, it has come to my attention that I -- we -- have a responsibility that we have not met,” Dr. McGee told the press.

A murmur ran through the crowd. None of them had the faintest idea what she could mean, and Cisco fought the urge to frown disapprovingly at them. Many of them had come to see him, after all, and he was consciously making himself visible to their cameras. By working for Dr. McGee he already implicitly gave her his backing, but to appear with her like this, in a subordinate position, meant that her words should have carried even more weight. She spoke for the Savior of Central City, and for them to doubt her made Cisco feel a little protective.

“Harrison Wells mentioned at the announcement for his Metahuman Awareness Apps that most of the metahumans in this city had chosen the wrong path,” Dr. McGee’s voice took on a hint of distaste, but she pressed on. “I’d like to ask him where he got that data. The six o’clock new perhaps? How many metahumans does he think there are? Twenty? Thirty?”

Dr. McGee shook her head. “No,” she corrected, “I have it from reliable sources, metahumans on my own staff, that there are over two hundred metahumans living in this city.”

Several flashbulbs went off at once, snapping pictures of her as she made this bold statement. Several of the reporters began shouting questions as to the identities of her metahuman employees, but she held up a hand and in a few moments they fell silent.

“These people live quietly among us,” she explained, “they are our friends and neighbors. They live as normal, law-abiding citizens of this city. Many -- indeed, most -- choose not to use their powers at all, and some of them suffer from the mutations they have undergone.

“These people live in fear, not of supervillains, but of us. Ordinary human citizens are the greatest threat to these people, with our prejudice and our anger. There is great strength in numbers, and many of these closeted metahumans cower in the shadows from the damage we could do.

We think we have the right to know who these people are, regardless of the cost to them. But is that true? Did they give up their right to privacy when they underwent a mutation for which they did not ask? I say no, and I hope you will as well.”

At these words the screens to either side of the podium lit up to display videos of Cisco’s Cloakpin Devices, dressed up in shiny chrome cases and spinning gently to show them from every angle.

“Mercury Labs is proud to announce its development of the Cloakpin Device, the first pro-metahuman technology to grace Central City,” Dr. McGee told the waiting crowd. “With this technology you will be able to play a part in shielding those metas with no choice but to cower in the shadows. Together we can show them that this city is not the dark, judgmental place it has been for them thus far.”

At this Dr. McGee turned and gestured for Cisco to come forward. As he stepped up to the podium another dozen or so flashes went off and another murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. Another few questions were shouted at him, but he ignored them in favor of sweeping his eyes over the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as possible.

“After becoming a metahuman, after everything that’s happened, I chose to stay in this city because I believe in it,” Cisco told them. “I did something you all said was heroic, but I have my own people who need a hero: my friends and fellow metas who up to now have lived in fear of discovery and the resulting wrath of the ignorant and angry among us.

“I don’t think those people are in the majority; I believe Central City is better than that. I hope that even those who are not metas will step up to protect their friends and neighbors by spreading this technology across the city so they will be able to block out any metahuman detection device and protect the innocent metahumans of this city.”

With that Cisco stepped aside, despite the volley of questions being fired at him, and Dr. McGee stepped up to the podium once more.

“I will now take question,” she said.

“Dr. McGee,” called one reporter, “do you intend for your Cloakpins to put Mercury Labs in direct competition with STAR Labs?”

“I intend for them to put us into conflict with bigots and fear-mongers,” she told him. “If Harrison Wells wants to count himself among those groups, then he may be sure he will always find resistance here.”

***

“ _Last week, in a shocking turn of events, Dr. Christina McGee announced that Mercury Labs would be selling a counter-measure to Dr. Harrison Wells’ Metahuman Awareness Apps_ ,” reported the newscaster. “ _These Cloakpin Devices were released onto the market today, a full two days before the release of the Awareness Apps, and no one could have predicted how many would be sold in the opening day alone. After a rousing speech from Central City’s newest hero, The Pacifier Cisco Ramon, these things are flying off the shelves, and most retailers in Central City are already sold out.”_

Cisco’s small television displayed footage of a storefront where an ad for the Cloakpins was plastered across the front window. People were fighting to get in, and then the footage cut to an empty shelving unit where the Cloakpins were also clearly advertised.

“ _Despite this, Dr. Harrison Wells has given an official statement to the press that the Metahuman Awareness Apps will launch on schedule, and pre-orders for that technology are still being made._ ”

“What the hell kind of a name is ‘Pacifier’?” Cisco groused, switching the TV back to the DVD player so they could resume the movie.

“I told you to come up with your own, kid,” Jay reminded him between bites of popcorn. He had been the one to insist on stopping to watch the news, and now Cisco could see why. A mixture of profound relief and incredible triumph was swirling in his chest, and no matter how chill he tried to look he knew he wasn’t succeeding in keeping the grin off his face.

Not even the media’s stupid name for him could dampen his spirits.

“I can’t come up with anything good,” Cisco complained, still trying not to grin like an idiot.

“I think an alternate one was ‘Lullaby’,” Jay offered.

Cisco made a face. “Why even bring that up?”

“Perspective,” Jay said solemnly. “I’m still not fully rid of ‘Crimson Comet,’ so you’d better come up with something soon.”

Cisco opened his mouth to argue, or perhaps express sympathy, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He glanced at Jay, who shrugged, then leaned his head on the back of the couch in exasperation.

“Go away!” he called. “I’m not doing interviews or giving statements without Dr. McGee!”

“Um,” said a muffled female voice from behind the door, “Mr. Ramon? Can I come in for just a second? I’m not with the press, I promise, I just wanna ask you something.”

Jay frowned. “Is that-” Cisco nodded, and Jay raced to open the door before he finished his sentence, “-Jesse Wells?”

It was indeed Jesse Wells, standing nervously on the threshold. She looked surprised to see Jay, staring openly for a moment or two, then peered around him to see Cisco still looking over the back of the couch.

“Can I come in?” she asked again.

“Um,” Cisco’s brain stalled. He had no idea why Harrison Wells’ daughter would show up at his apartment, or how he should react to it. “Sure?”

Jay stepped aside to admit her, watching her closely as she approached the sofa. Cisco stood up, debated leaving the couch as a barrier between them, then shook himself and went around it.

“Do you . . . need something?” he asked uncertainly. Jesse didn’t seem to have relaxed at all, in fact she looked as uneasy as Cisco felt.

“Yes,” Jesse said, then, “no. I mean, I want to talk to you about what you said. At the press conference, and in my dad’s office. About why you’d never work for someone like him?”

Suddenly Cisco understood perfectly what Jesse was doing there.

“I see,” he said tersely, folding his arms across his chest. “And what exactly does Harrison Wells have to say to all that behind Dr. McGee’s back?”

Jesse had the gall to look surprised. “What?”

“I know why you’re here,” he snapped. “You came to plead his case. Kind of a low blow, sending a little girl, but it’s not like I expected any better from-”

“I’m not a little girl,” Jesse shot back defensively, “and I’m not here because of my dad. He doesn’t even know I came.”

Cisco frowned. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I came because I want to help!” Jesse said earnestly. “I want to do what you said, protect the metahumans who are innocent. What my dad’s doing . . . I didn’t realize how wrong it was. I want to do something.”

“You wanna help?” Jay piped up, coming to stand beside Cisco and Jesse. “Go talk some sense into your father. If you can stop him from launching the Apps-”

“I tried,” Jesse interrupted miserably. “He won’t listen to me.”

“If there’s anyone in the world he’ll listen to it’s you,” Jay assured her. “Try again. Maybe you can get through to him.”

Jesse shook her head. “It’s no good. I want to help in some other way.”

“Then buy a Cloakpin and leave it be,” Cisco told her firmly.

“There must be something the two of you need,” Jesse protested, “something I can do. Look I know you’re superheroes, but you can’t do everything yourselves!”

“He’s the superhero,” Cisco jerked his thumb at Jay, “I’m just tech support. Between the two of us we’ve got it covered.”

At this Jesse frowned. “Wait, you mean you’re not . . . . not going to keep being a superhero?”

“I never was,” Cisco told her. “An opportunity presented itself and I took it, that’s not the same as signing a four year contract.”

“But the city needs you!” Jesse protested earnestly. “What about all those metas you said needed protecting?”

“They need protecting from people like your dad,” Cisco told her. “The best way I can fight him is by helping Dr. McGee. If it helps then think of her as the hero and me as her sidekick, but I’m not putting on a kettle helmet to go run around fighting crime. That’s how Jay helps. Building tech is how I help. You help by talking to your father.”

Jesse shook her head, suddenly looking so disgusted that Cisco physically recoiled. “So much for that speech you made about believing in this city,” she said venomously. “I thought you were a hero.”

“Hey,” Jay stepped meaningfully between Cisco and Jesse. “He’s not obligated to do this. He’s helping in the way he can do the most good, and it’s not fair to judge him based on what you expected.”

“How can you condone this?” Jesse demanded, rounding on Jay next. “He’s chickening out!”

“It’s not my place to call him a coward,” Jay told her firmly, “and it’s not yours either. You wouldn’t ask this of any ordinary citizen, why is he obligated?”

“It’s different!” Jesse insisted. “He’s a meta-”

“Unbelievable,” Cisco hissed, making Jesse turn to him in surprise. “What, just because I’m a meta I’m obligated to risk my life just to be worth something? I don’t have the right to safety and protection, just like everyone else? You talk a big game, _Miss Wells,_  but at the end of the day you’re no different from him!”

“What?” Jesse said in alarm, taking a step back. “No, that’s not-”

“Get out!” Cisco yelled. “Get out of my apartment and don’t come back!”

There was a rattling of dishes in the cabinets as Cisco’s control began to slip, but he was so angry he could barely see straight. What right did she have to call him a coward, for not doing something she’d never have done herself? Where did she get off making commentary on his morals, when just days ago she hadn’t even considered the implications of her father’s technology? How could she-

Jay was suddenly at his side, wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders to steady him. “You’d better go,” he said to Jesse, “I’ll take care of him.”

Cisco closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing, like he had when he’d first been learning control. He listened to the sound of Jesse’s footfalls, to the door opening and closing, and then to the sound of Jay’s voice whispering gentle reassurances against his hair.

Slowly, very slowly the room stopped shaking and the tension drained from Cisco’s body. He sagged against Jay, exhausted, and the older meta obligingly pulled him into a hug.

“I think I need a drink,” Cisco announced after a few moments. “I could hit you with a little tap to take your speed for a few hours?”

Jay withdrew, looking a bit pale. “Deal,” he said shakily.

The wary look on Jay’s face as Cisco got down glasses and a bottle of his favorite tequila left him feeling hollow and ashamed, and it took about half the bottle to fill the emptiness in his chest. Jay certainly helped though, and it didn’t take long for them both to get pretty sloshed. A drunk Jay Garrick was every bit as amusing as Cisco had thought he would be, giggling and nearly falling out of his chair, and after an hour or so Cisco was feeling a lot better about life.

He had not, however, forgotten the Wells family completely.

“He tried to poach me you know,” Cisco slurred with one hand still on the bottle. “Tried to steal me from Dr. McGee.”

“I’ll bet,” Jay replied blearily, leaning his chin on one hand. “Harrison’s always been like that. He wants something, he takes it.”

“Not me though,” Cisco told him, voice full of the slightly overblown pride of the truly smashed. “He wanted me, but he couldn’t have me.”

“Knowing him he’s probably not done,” Jay warned. “What’d he do?”

“Lured me into the back of a limo,” Cisco recounted. “Tried to get me drunk on some expensive rich people crap, like he was gonna have his way with me right there.”

Jay’s face scrunched up adorably in confusion. “He tried to sleep with you?”

“God no,” Cisco scoffed, “he’s like 60 or something.”

“55,” Jay corrected absently.

“Whatever,” Cisco huffed, “the _point_ is that I didn’t fall for his liquid _lies_ and I told him to take a hike. He’s got nothin’ I want.”

“He’ll find something you want,” Jay told him sagely. “He’s good at that.”

Cisco considered this for a moment. The truth of it was that Wells already knew what Cisco wanted: safety, for himself and for his metahuman friends like Caitlin and Ronnie. They had it for now, but that didn’t mean Wells couldn’t find another way to take it from them. Cisco tried to think of what he’d do if Wells came up with another way to hurt Caitlin and Ronnie, one that Dr. McGee couldn’t fix. He didn’t know what he’d do, honestly, and that scared him.

“Hey,” Jay called, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Knowing Harrison that drink probably cost more than that ridiculous Flash statue they made.”

“Holy shit, you couldn’t have told me that when I could have stolen it?” Cisco demanded. He knew what Jay was doing, even in his inebriated state, and he played along to avoid the train of thought he’d been on.

“I wasn’t there,” Jay defended, “and anyway, we’re the good guys. Good guys don’t steal.”

“Tell that to Robin Hood,” Cisco grumbled.

“What were you going to do, give it to the poor?” Jay asked sarcastically.

“Oh shut up you damn boy scout.”

Eventually Cisco’s speed-canceling tap wore off and Jay sobered up pretty fast. The last thing Cisco remembered was the older meta getting him into bed, setting a glass of water on the night stand and covering him with the duvet before speeding out of the apartment. As he fell asleep he couldn’t help thinking of what Jesse had said about him being a coward, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself like a shield.

It didn't help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to checkerboardom for giving me the idea for the drunk brotp: crimnsonvibe moment and writing some of the dialogue as well.


	4. Shark

If Jesse had been conflicted when she’d made her way to Cisco Ramon’s apartment, she was even more conflicted leaving it. She’d thought she’d known what she was doing, going to him for help finding a way to right her father’s wrongs. She thought he’d be happy to have help, being so overtaxed as he clearly was getting on his feet as a superhero. She’d thought she’d known what the right thing to do was.

Now she wasn’t sure. She’d been certain that nothing less than a drastic display of loyalty to The Flash and The Pacifier would make her father understand that she was serious, but neither of them wanted her help. She’d been sure that Mr. Ramon would consider it his responsibility to become a superhero like Jay Garrick, but he seemed content to sit around making gadgets all day. She couldn’t imagine the Flash being okay with an attitude like that, but he seemed to support his fellow meta’s plan to cower in the shadows.

Then again though, wasn’t that the point? That metas had the right to privacy, to safety, despite what they were? Did she really have the same attitude as her father, expecting Mr. Ramon to give up even more than his anonymity to become a superhero?

These thoughts chased each other around Jesse’s head as she made her way home from the apartment. It had gotten dark while she walked, and she wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice the sound of flute music until she was almost right next to the source.

She turned, to see a man in a green hood standing in the shadows of an alleyway, playing a soft and haunting melody, his eyes closed as though lost in the music. When Jesse approached him he looked up, and then she could see that there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked tired, and sad.

“That’s lovely,” Jesse told him, looking down at his feet for a hat or something to collect money in. There was nothing.

“I’m glad you like it,” said the man, smiling gently, his voice almost as lilting and melodic as his flute.

It would probably be rude to assume that he was homeless, but he looked a little disheveled and he _was_  playing the flute in an alleyway, and Jesse didn’t want him spending the night on the street.

At last she settled on a neutral, “What are you doing out so late?”

The man smiled again, a little less tired. “Waiting for you.”

Jesse frowned. “What do you-”

She was interrupted when the stranger raised his flute to his lips and played quick succession of notes, and Jesse found her voice unwilling to cooperate. She opened and closed her mouth, growing more distressed as she found that she couldn’t speak at all.

“I just want you to know this isn’t your fault,” said the man, stepping out of the shadows to approach her. “None of this is your fault, and no harm will come to you. I’m sorry I have to do this, but something has to be done.”

‘What?’ Jesse mouthed, and the man gave her a sad look.

“I’m Pied Piper,” he explained raising his flute again, “and it’s time for your father to pay up.”

With that he began to play again, another sad and haunting song, and Jesse knew no more.

***

Cisco woke up the next morning to a ringing phone and a pounding headache. He was very hungover, and the sound of his ringtone rattled the inside of his skull unpleasantly as he felt around on his bedside table for his cell. Eventually he found it and pulled it under the covers to put it to his ear without actually raising his head.

“What?” he said grumpily.

“Really Cisquito,” said a familiar lilting voice, “I was expecting a warmer welcome from you.”

Cisco was instantly awake. “Hartley?” he asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What are you-”

“I have a proposition for you,” Hartley said, sounding just a little smug. 

“I’m getting a little sick of people with ‘propositions’,” Cisco told him sourly. “Last time it ended up in the paper, and it wasn’t even me.”

“Yes I saw that blatant forgery,” Hartley assured him. “Don’t worry, I know you’d never get into bed with someone like Wells. That’s why I’m calling you.”

Cisco hesitated. Hartley was his ex-boyfriend, but they’d broken up two and a half years ago and for good reason. He wasn’t a particularly _nice_  person, but he’d had an endearing sense of fairness that had drawn Cisco to him. That being said, his idea of justice wasn’t always what one would call ‘forgiving,’ and if he’d returned to Central City _now_  of all times . . .

“What’s your proposition?” he asked warily.

“We’re going to stop Wells from launching his Metahuman Awareness Apps,” Hartley explained, as though Cisco had already agreed.

“How?” Cisco wanted to know.

“Simple. He cancels the launch, and he gets his daughter back.”

Cisco’s mouth went dry. “What have you done Hartley?” he demanded.

“Your tone wounds me Cisquito,” Hartley chided. “You know I’d never actually hurt her, but Wells won’t take that chance. Not when it’s something precious to _him_  on the line.”

“Hartley, don’t do this,” Cisco tried, knowing it pointless.

“I’ve already done it,” Hartley protested, “I just need your help to finish it.”

“What do you need me for?” Cisco asked. “Hartley-”

“After your little stunt at the bus stop you have the city’s ear,” Hartley explained. “Once I strike my deal with Wells, you tell everyone what he’s doing. They all think he built those Apps to keep people safe, but the reality is that their safety is the last thing on his mind. Expose him for the fraud he is and the city will turn on him.”

Cisco shook his head. “If anything you’ll turn him into a martyr,” he argued. “You’ll only prove how dangerous metas-”

“But I’m not a metahuman,” Hartley countered. “It’s more difficult than he’d have them believe to tell the most dangerous among us with a wristwatch, isn’t it?”

“This won’t work,” Cisco pleaded.

“It will,” Hartley said, with a tone of finality. “Either tell the world about this deal, or I’ll do it.”

“I thought you needed me,” Cisco reminded him.

“It won’t mean as much coming from me, but the word _will_ get out,” Hartley told him. “I just thought you might want to use your influence for good.”

“I have!” Cisco protested. “I built the Cloakpin Devices, used my fame to market them. They’ll _work_ , Hartley!”

“It’s not enough,” Hartley said dismissively. “There will still be metas who slip through the cracks in the net, and then where will they be? Will they not lose their jobs, their homes, everything, just because Mercury Labs is winning this little sales war?”

Cisco paused. He knew he only had seconds before Hartley gave up on him and hung up, and one opportunity to say something that would dissuade him. Only one thing came to mind.

“This won’t be justice for what he did to _you,_ Hart.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, then Hartley spoke in a bitter, wounded voice that made Cisco’s throat go tight. “It’ll be close enough.”

“Hartley-”

“Goodbye Cisco.” And the line went dead.

Cisco immediately began pulling on clothes, gratefully swallowing the painkillers Jay had put next to his bed as he looked for a matching pair of sock. Once he was dressed he went to the living room, and switching on the TV he discovered that the news was indeed covering the abduction of Jesse Wells. Cisco muted the footage of Dr. Wells giving a statement to the press and called Jay.

“I know,” Jay said without greeting, “I’m watching it now.”

“I know who did it,” Cisco told him. “How fast can you-”

Immediately Jay at his side, a rush of wind blowing Cisco’s hair off his neck and every loose sheet of paper in the room into the air.

“-get here,” Cisco finished, somewhat redundantly, before ending the call.

“Who has her?” Jay asked, face set with the Flash’s determination.

“Hartley Rathaway,” Cisco told him, “ex-boyfriend of mine. He figured out that the Particle Accelerator wasn’t safe before it ever started leaking dark matter, but Wells ruined his career so no one would believe him.”

“Is that why he’s doing this?” Jay wanted to know.

Cisco shook his head. “No. Well, partly. Supposedly he’s doing it to stop the Awareness Apps from launching, but this is at least partly revenge. He’s going to make demands though, so we need to find him before he contacts Wells and proves to every fear-monger in the city that metahuman supporters are nut jobs.”

Jay looked grim. He of all people knew what was at stake here. “Do you have any idea where he’ll be hiding?”

“No clue,” Cisco admitted, “but he’s in good with the city’s homeless. He’ll probably be hiding out in an abandoned building somewhere, a place where people squat.”

Jay heaved a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising and falling with it. “Then we’ll just have to look.”

***

“This one!” called Cisco as they zipped by one of the buildings.

Jay stopped, then backtracked until they were standing in front of a derelict apartment complex, crumbling in places and probably still standing only because the city hadn’t gotten around to demolishing it yet. It had taken them the better part of an hour to find it., due partly to Cisco insisting that they stop several times in front of electronics stores to check the news; if they couldn’t reach Hartley before he made his announcement, _everything_ would change.

“How do you know he’s here?” Jay asked, eyeing the place dubiously.

“It’s cold outside,” Cisco answered, “that building should be full of squatters, but I’m only getting vibrations from two heartbeats. One of the top floor, one in the basement.”

Jay nodded. It had to be where Hartley was hiding.

“Remember, he has a sonic device in his gloves that can mimic my powers,” Cisco warned as they entered. “It can’t shut off your speed, but he’s got your frequency and he can use it against you. Try to stay behind him, don’t let him get you in his sights.”

“You go get Jesse,” Jay instructed, “I’ll deal with Pied Piper.”

Cisco nodded, and his hair was suddenly blown back as Jay took off upstairs to look for Hartley.

The basement could only be reached through a trap door in the concrete foundation. There was a heavy chain and a padlock on it, but a small, concentrated vibration blast took care of it easily. Behind the door was a ladder leading down into darkness, and there was no way in but to simply climb down blindly. It was nerve wracking, but there was no other way to get to Jesse, who was likely terrified chained up down there in the dark. Cisco could feel her heart beating rabbit-fast. 

He went slowly and carefully, feeling each rung before putting weight on it. He had just put his foot down on solid concrete when suddenly something heavy made contact with the ladder. There was a loud clang and the metal under his hands began to shake, dislodging his other foot so that he fell to the ground.

“Ow!” he exclaimed as he landed hard on his tailbone.

“Mr. Ramon?” came a familiar voice, and suddenly the small underground room was flooded with light. Jesse was standing by a light switch next to the ladder, looking mortified.

“Miss Wells,” Cisco greeted, rising gingerly to his feet. Jesse immediately ran over to help him.

“I’m sorry,” she said hurried, wincing at Cisco’s pained expression. “I thought you were Pied Piper.”

Cisco looked around, to see the smashed remains of a wooden chair and a few bits of rope on the floor. Jesse was still clutching one of the legs, which was likely what she’d taken a swing at him with.

“Well you’ve been Princess Leiaing it up in here,” Cisco noted. “You hardly needed me.”

“Well the door was locked,” she protested, dropping her weapon.

Cisco was spared having to think of retort by the sound of Hartley’s sonic emitter going off somewhere above their heads. More importantly, it was going off at a very specific frequency. One that Cisco recognized.

“Oh no,” he said, half to himself, then scrambled for the ladder.

“What is it?” Jesse wanted to know as she followed directly on his heels. “What’s that noise?”

“Hartley’s weapon,” Cisco explained once they were at the top, pausing to help Jesse out of the hole. “He’s cornered Flash.”

Heedless of the fact that Jesse was still behind him Cisco dashed up the stairs. The building was seven stories, so it took them a while to reach the top, but as soon as they exited the stairwell Cisco spotted Jay kneeling on the floor, hands over his ears and coughing up blood. They were in a narrow hallway with a row of doors to either side, and set up along every door frame was a smallish speaker. A trap.

Jesse collapsed to the floor also, eyes screwed shut and hands over her ears. It was simple enough for Cisco to adjust his vibrating frequency to one that wouldn’t be effected by the sound, but the other two wouldn’t last long in this.

“Hartley!” Cisco called above the noise. “Hartley, can you hear me?”

“I hear you,” came Hartley’s voice through the speakers that were emitting the sound wave, bitter and angry. “I hear you just fine Cisquito.”

“You don’t want to do this,” Cisco pleaded. “You’re not a murderer Hartley, you don’t want to kill the Flash!”

“He got in my way,” Hartley countered. “He’s on Wells’ side!”

“Did you miss the press conference where he dragged Wells through the mud?” Cisco demanded. “He’s working against Wells too, just like you are. He’s just not doing it by hurting people!”

“Something has to be done Cisco!” Hartley argued, sounding like his temper was fraying.

“Not this!” Cisco protested. Jay dropped to all fours, and Cisco knew he didn’t have long before his organs would sheer into pieces.

“What then?” Hartley demanded. “Your Cloakpins? A stop-gap measure; Wells will have a countermeasure on the market in a few months. They won’t solve the problem.”

“Neither will this,” Cisco told him firmly. “You think the problem is just Wells? You’re smarter than that Hartley. The problem is people’s fear. He'll be able to prey on that fear as long as metahumans use their powers to hurt others!”

“You’re really going to blame the victims here?” Hartley asked in disbelief.

“I’m saying people have a right to be scared,” Cisco replied, “and they’re not going to stop being scared until we show them that we’re not divided into superheroes and criminals. We can’t respond to their fear with violence Hartley, we have to prove that we’re bigger than that!”

Hartley was quiet, and Cisco knew he only had one more chance. Time was running out.

“Since that day, you’ve been saying that Wells is no better than a criminal,” Cisco said. “I think the question you need to ask yourself is, what makes us better than him?”

There was a pause, an agonizing, screaming pause as Jesse sobbed and Jay vomited blood onto the floor in startling amounts. Cisco squeezed his eyes shut, praying that this would work, praying that Hartley was still the person he used to be.

Then, it stopped.

The god-awful sound that had been piping through the speakers went quiet, and Jay collapsed onto the floor, panting but alive. Jesse took her hands from her ears, looking around in confusion, then began to dash the tears from her eyes. Cisco let out a deep, shuddering breath.

One of the apartment doors opened and Hartley stepped out, looking weary and miserable. “Nothing, if we do things like this,” he answered simply, and Cisco ran to him and threw his arms around him.

***

While Jesse was content not to press charges against Hartley her father wasn’t so forgiving, so the six o’clock news covered the arrest of Hartley Rathaway for the abduction of Jesse Wells. He told them all that he’d done it as a personal vendetta against Dr. Wells, and Jesse agreed to keep his true motive a secret. Still, it stirred up renewed interest in the Particle Accelerator, so Cisco wasn’t sure _that_  secret would stay under wraps for much longer.

“I wish my dad hadn’t done it,” Jesse lamented, sitting sandwiched between Cisco and Jay on Cisco’s couch as they watched the footage of Hartley being handcuffed on the news.

“If it means that the truth about the Accelerator comes out, Hartley will consider it worth it,” Cisco assured her.

“ _In other news_ ,” interrupted the newscaster, drawing their attention back to the TV, “ _the launch of the Metahuman Awareness Apps took place on schedule despite the recent trouble for the Wells family. They did meet projected sales rates, despite the competition from Mercury Labs, but so far there have been no reported sightings of metahumans detected by the Apps._ ”

“How long do you think it’s going to stay that way?” Jesse wondered.

“Not long enough,” Jay answered darkly, glowering at the TV.

“ _However_ ,” the newscaster went on, “ _several notable members of the community, in particular three mercury labs employees and two members of the Central City Police Force, have publicly ‘come out’ as metahumans_.”

As he said this the screen displayed a man in a police uniform placing his hand on a pot of soil, from which sprung a small sprout that instantly grew into a large purple flower. The small crowd of onlookers applauded, smiling and laughing in amazement. Caitlin had considered coming out in this way, Cisco knew, but had decided to wait until Ronnie and Dr. Stein were ready too.

“Think Hartley would consider that worth not going through with his plan?” Jesse asked pointedly.

Cisco grinned. “Oh yeah.”

“ _Central City’s newest superhero, Vibe, was unavailable for comment._ ”

“Vibe?” Jay asked, looking at Cisco curiously. “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah I came up with my own,” Cisco replied. “Figured I might as well let them have their fun before they figure out that I’m not going to keep doing the whole superhero thing.”

“You’re really not going to do it?” Jesse asked searchingly. “Not even a little?”

“Not even on weekends,” Cisco confirmed. “Is that alright with you, Miss Wells?”

Jesse shrugged. “It’s your life Cisco, you get to choose. I’m just glad you’re going to keep working on non-lethal anti-metahuman tech for Dr. McGee.”

“This city’s a kinder place to metahumans than I thought,” Ciscon conceded. “I guess the cops can have a few toys, as long as they use them responsibly.”

Jesse was silent for a moment as the newscaster droned on about what various people thought of the Awareness Apps and the outted metas, then looked back at Cisco.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For pressuring you. You can do as much good for this city as Cisco Ramon as you can as Vibe. I’m sorry I couldn’t see that.”

“Hey,” Cisco said lightly, “don’t beat yourself up about it. I guess there’s always the possibility of another evil speedster-”

“Bite your tongue,” Jay admonished.

“-and if that were the case I guess I could chip in with one measly fight.”

“You mean it?” Jesse asked excitedly.

“That’s it though,” Cisco said hurriedly. “Barring that I’m not a superhero, just boring unimportant tech geek Cisco Ramon.”

“You don’t need to be a superhero to be important,” Jay reminded him.

“Oh good,” Cisco said, as if this were some kind of revelation, “because as long as Dr. McGee’s ideas for the anti-metahuman tech keep coming like they have, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to hedgi for lending me her plant-controlling metahuman cop OC.


End file.
